


Oh, Elizabeth

by Estrella3791



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 07:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10485645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estrella3791/pseuds/Estrella3791
Summary: It had been almost eight years, and he constantly wondered about her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I wrote when At World's End simultaneously broke my heart and made me happy.  
> Enjoy!!! :)

He was braiding ropes. Will Turner, the (reportedly) deadliest pirate on the seas, was twisting strands of cloth together to braid ropes. Granted, it was night, and no one would ever know, but Will still had a feeling that it was at least a little unmanly. Why do you do it, then? a nasty little inner voice asked him, and he let out a sigh.   
Oh, Elizabeth. He missed her so much. It had been nearly eight years, and he constantly wondered about her. Had she fallen in love with someone else? If so, was she holding back from her own happiness for his sake? He loved her with all his being, always had, always would, and wanted so desperately to be the only man she would ever love, but he valued her and her well being above everything in the world, and if he was holding her back from something that would make her happy, he would never forgive himself.   
Oh, Elizabeth. He wanted so badly to hold her, to touch her face, to kiss her until they were both breathless. He wanted her weight in the bed next to him every evening. He wanted his wife to eat with him, to laugh with him, to do everything with him. Sometimes, when he was at the wheel, he would imagine that she was in front of him, leaning against him as he guided the Dutchman. He would unconsciously tuck his elbows in, making sure that she was warm. He would rest his chin where her head would be, almost thinking that he could feel her soft hair tickling his face and smell the flowery smell that seemed to cling to her everywhere she went.   
Oh, Elizabeth. He wondered if she thought about him as much as he thought about her. He wondered if that was even possible. He wondered if she was still the pirate she had been when he had last seen her, or if she had returned to her prim, ladylike ways once she got back to civilization. He wondered what she was eating for breakfast when he got the early watches, he wondered how she was passing her time when he was on watch in the day, and he wondered what sorts of dreams she was having when he was on watch during the night.  
Oh, Elizabeth. Had he gotten her with child that day on the beach? He sometimes found himself wishing so. He had always dreamed of having a child with Elizabeth-but in those dreams he had cared for her while she carried the baby, never left her side during the delivery, and had slipped an arm around her while she sang to the babe. It hurt him more than Davy Jones’ sword in his chest to think of her doing all of that alone.   
Alone. She was all alone.  
He felt a tear slip down his cheek. His eyes were closed. The rope had fallen from his hands, and he had not noticed.   
There was a reason he braided ropes.  
He pretended that it was her hair. He braided carefully, gently, tenderly, careful not to pull any imaginary strands or let them get into knots. He closed his eyes, smelled her flowery scent, felt her lips on his, clutched his son to his chest.  
There was a reason he braided ropes.  
Oh, Elizabeth.


End file.
